


Growing Up Makes Me Scared (And I Don’t Think I’m Prepared)

by OofBoost



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Panic Attacks, Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), or are they?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:48:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29150730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OofBoost/pseuds/OofBoost
Summary: The Dream Voice is back—and he’s brought a little more to the party and Ranboo doesn’t know how much more he can take.Phil and Techno find themselves falling into the loop.Or; Ranboo hallucinates (maybe?) Dream physically causing problems for him and Phil and Techno try to help him.
Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 456





	1. Nature’s First Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from “2004” by Anthony Amorim

_“It seems only yesterday I used to believe_

_there was nothing under my skin but light._

_If you cut me I would shine._

_But now if I fall upon the sidewalks of life,_

_I skin my knees. I bleed.”_

Billy Collins 

  
  
  


Sometimes Ranboo wishes he could be a kid again. He wishes for that sense of innocence and opportunity. He wishes to be so naïve as to believe he could fly if the wind were generous enough to carry him. He wishes to have his only worries be of hot chocolate burning his tongue and lego blocks hiding in his carpet. 

He wishes to be happy again.

  
  
  


_“I keep forgetting_

_The light in my eyes_

_That reignited_

_I keep forgetting_

_That I am whole again_

_All on my own_

_But I won’t forget_

_What I’ve learned_

_From being hurt”_

Silent Thoughts

  
  
  


Living with Phil and Techno—he concluded—was the closest to feeling secure he had been in a long time (even if he had, he wouldn’t remember it). There was peace in knowing his small shack of a home was surrounded by burning snow and stray wildlife rather than lies, deceit, and explosives. Sometimes he likes to tell himself he doesn’t remember much about L’manburg—that it was a mere myth amongst tongues. Alas, the life of war was not something easily forgotten—even by someone as forgetful as himself.

Ranboo wakes with a tremble. His bones shiver and sweat drips from strands of his hair down his cheek while heaving breaths litter his body. With large pupils adjusting to the world around him, he takes in his situation. 

He’s in his bed. He’s in his bed. He’s fine, in his bed. _Safe_.

“You’re fine. You’re fine. You’re _fine_ . You don’t remember. You _don’t_ remember. But I do remember? _No_ . You _don’t_ remember.” He rambles on to himself.

He decides it’s time to start the morning at—looking at his clock—midnight. At least he slept. He can’t complain when there have been occasions he’s gone without rest for days. He wasn’t refreshed, but he was awake.

He goes to check on Ranbun, dragging his legs behind him as he heads for the cozy enclosure. He peeks inside and finds a vacant area with no signs of life whatsoever. It was almost as if Ranbun never existed at all.

“Ranbun? Ranbun, where are you?!” Ranboo calls out, opening the door to his house without a second thought.

It was dull and bleak outside. The moon shadowed the land with a powerful reign that could only be drowned by the Sun herself. Off in the distance, he can see a few hostile mobs spawning, but nothing of concern. Ranbun couldn’t survive in an environment like this. He needed warmth and shelter and care. Ranboo was meant to give him all those things. He needed to find him. He needed-

A glimpse of black and white catches the corner of his eye as he notices the prominent colors dash to the right. _Ranbun_ . His beloved pet was headed for the woods. That was no place for a pet, _especially_ at night. Ranboo takes off running, cutting through the land and heading for the trees in the hopes of catching up with the rabbit—a bold desire, to say the least.

He’s running and running and running and soon he’s surrounded by trees and he can’t see his house or any lights or civilization and the trees around him don’t look familiar but when did they ever; he was lost.

Another dash of color and he’s jogging to the left. He finds himself stopped in the middle of a clearing. He’s surrounded by tall trees that shadow over him and cloud his thoughts. The branching limbs of bark begin to shift and mold into Endermen. A sight that would typically soothe him, caused him immense panic as they seemed angered—their bodies quivering with frustration. Ranboo closes his eyes tightly and wishes that when he opens them back up, that it will all have disappeared.

“It truly is funny.” A voice cuts through.

The once piercing screech from his kind stops immediately and the trees gain back their soft brown color dusted with white. Ranboo—in search of the voice—takes in his surroundings. His eyes fall upon a shadow in front of him. He can make out an outline of a person but that was about it. He couldn’t think level enough to study the identity.

“ _What_?” Ranboo’s hoarse voice interrupts his thoughts, worn out from running around.

“One of the most _powerful_ hybrids in this land; can’t even keep track of a bunny.” That _mockery_. Ranboo knew that mockery. He knew that voice and that kindness laced with hatred and deception he saw all too often. He knew who he was speaking with.

“ _Dream_.”

“Surprise.” Dreams' smile mask walks into the light but it needn’t be, for Ranboo already knew the man was happily grinning. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I can’t go for a walk?” Dream fake pouts, beginning to circle Ranboo, making him feel intimidated.

“Pretty far for a walk, wouldn’t you say?” Ranboo glares back, following Dream’s masked eyes.

“You wouldn’t know.” 

“Ah, yes. You’re homeless. I remember now.”

Dream stops in his tracks, staring coldly at Ranboo. Typically, Ranboo has no problem looking Dream in the ‘eyes’ because it was only the mask, not his physical eyes. Although, now it angered him. That _glare_. It boiled his blood.

Dream raises his hand and snaps his fingers. The crack resonates harshly in the winter air and clings to the wood of the trees. Ranboo—unfazed—waits for something to happen. When nothing occurs he opens his mouth to talk. The sound of high-pitched squeaks quickly fills the air for no more than a few seconds that is followed by a deflating sigh.

 _Ranbun_.

“What the _heck_?!” Ranboo cries out, not wanting to believe what he heard.

“If you wanna play games, Ranboo; that’s fine. I’ll play your game. But you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” Dream deadpans.

“You’re a _monster_!” Ranboo, voice cracking, shouts at the man. “Where’s my pet? Where is he?”

“Oh, you know.”

“ _Where_ is he!?” Ranboo yells louder, his voice edging on distorting but he maintains control.

“If you want,” Dream unsheathes a glistening netherite sword from his pack and holds it as his side, letting it poke at the ground gently, “I can take you to him.”

“No, no, no. This isn’t happening. You’re not real. You’re not real. You’re _not_ real.” Ranboo begins to slowly back away from Dream, his breathing picking up again as if he hadn’t stopped running at all. 

“Oh, is that so?” Dream is inching towards Ranboo, the two dancing back and forth, “Why don’t you find out how _real_ I can be.”

Dream lifts his sword over his shoulder and-

  
  
  


_“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,_

_But I have promises to keep,_

_And miles to go before I sleep,_

_And miles to go before I sleep.”_

Robert Frost

  
  
  


“Techno?” Phil’s voice calls from the upper part of the house.

“Down here.” Techno shouts back, less loud and enthusiastic.

Phil makes his way down a set of ladders until he’s at the bottom of the residence, “Trading with Orphan, I see?” Phil comments.

“I require resources.” Techno deadpans as he continues to trade.

“I’m sure that you do, I’m sure.” Phil chuckles. “Well, I’m gonna head to Ranboo’s and help him gather some more netherite. Care to join? I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Techno scoffs, “He’s _terrified_ of me, Phil.”

“Maybe he wouldn’t be if you didn’t _patronize_ him all the time.”

“I do _not-_ ” Techno locks eyes with his friend, “Whatever.” 

“Exactly,” Phil nods, “Well, are you coming or not?”

“Eh,” Techno puts his items away, stopping his trades with Orphan. “I guess I could use some more netherite.” He shrugs.

“Alright, let’s go, mate.” Phil smiles brightly.

  
  
  


_“And when they bombed other people’s house, we_

_protested_

_but not enough, we opposed them but not_

_enough. I was_

_in my bed, around my bed America_

_was falling: invisible house by invisible house by invisible house._

_I took a chair outside and watched the sun._

_In the sixth month_

_of a disastrous reign in the house of money_

_in the street of money in the city of money in the country of money,_

_our great country of money, we (forgive us)_

_lived happily during the war.”_

Ilya Kaminsky

  
  
  


The snow is falling with a fire in its flakes, burning against the ground kindly. Phil and Techno trudge their way to the small shack in the corner of the land. They’re used to snow, but it’s colder than usual. Phil can only pray that Ranboo isn’t affected too poorly.

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

There’s no answer.

“Ranboo? It’s Phil and Techno. You said you wanted to go mining today?” Phil calls out gently.

There’s still no answer.

“ _Ranboo_ ?” Phil’s tone is a little quieter. It’s unlike the hybrid to be so _quiet_ and slow to answer requests. That was what concerned Phil the most—Ranboo was so obedient. It was almost unnatural— _forced_ , even.

Phil locked eyes with Techno, asking for answers, but all Techno offered was an emotionless face and quick shrug. Perhaps Phil was overreacting. Ranboo probably needs a minute.

“Ranboo? You alright, man?” Phil tries again. 

No response. Phil decides Ranboo’s minute is up.

“Ranboo, I’m coming in!” Phil barges in, the door unlocked and easily swinging open. Phil stops in his tracks and stares at it. Ranboo _always_ locked his doors. He was quite an anxious individual. Techno and Phil share a glance, encouraging each other to continue the search.

It wasn’t a long search. The house was small and mostly untouched aside from the occasional chest or crafting table. There weren’t many options for a man to go missing into. It was...empty. There wasn’t much to go off of.

Phil walked over to the animal enclosure, a small but homey area meant for Ranboo’s pets. He finds Ranbun sitting peacefully in his cage, staring up at Phil with large eyes. 

“Do you know where Ranboo is, little one?” Phil questions, gently petting the rabbit who leans into the touch.

“I’ve got an idea.” Techno’s voice shouts from outside.

Phil leaves the rabbit alone, wearing guilt for ceasing the affection so promptly. He manages his way to the front of the house and stares at what Techno’s found: footprints.

“On our way, then. Shall we?”

Techno simply nods as the two follow the path—terrified of what they’ll find.

  
  
  


_“Forgetting is family portraits with a stranger in each one whom you cannot help but miss._

_They say you have his smile._

_Forgetting is not being able to close your eyes for longer than 8 seconds without thinking yourself 800 miles away._

_How did I get here?_

_Forgetting is waking up from nightmares 7 times a night,_

_Right into another one._

  
  
  


Phil wasn’t sure what he was expecting to stumble upon, following this path. Although, he wasn’t expecting _this_.

The teen was laying on the cold floor, shivering from what Phil couldn’t tell to be either temperature or fear. Small whimpers left his lips as he curled in on himself, holding his arms and hugging his own body. He was a mess. It was so unnatural and terrifying to see.

“ _Jesus Christ-_ ” Phil rushes over to the boy. He kneels down and tries to gently hold the boy, but he flinches so hard it’s as if Phil _hurt_ him.

“N-No. Stop.” That is all Ranboo can make out. Even _he_ wasn’t sure if the light stutters were the hypothermia or panicked state.

“ _Ranboo_ , are you with us, mate?” Phil questions, deciding to let Ranboo hold himself instead.

“It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.” A mantra of words spills from his lips as he tightly closes his eyes, wishing to forget.

“Hey, hey, hey. We’re real, Ranboo. Techno and I, _we’re_ real.” Phil tried to convince him.

“It’s not real. It’s not real.” The mantra only continues.

Phil and Techno share a look. Phil was a variety basket of feelings. His furrowed brows painted concern but his glossy eyes whispered worries and pinched lips sang sadness. There was little to no emotion in Techno’s face, yet it was the most compassion Phil had seen him show for another individual who was not family. That was how Phil knew this was serious. Whatever Ranboo was going through, it was beyond them.

“C’mon, mate. Let’s get you up and going. Somewhere warm, yeah?” Phil gently lifts him to his feet. He stumbles at first, fortunate to have Techno grab him and push him back into stance. With a friend on each side and a blank glossy stare into the nothingness, Ranboo made his way home.

  
  
  


_Trying to remember is looking back at what you had written only moments before and being convinced that someone is in your house_

_And they have your handwriting._

_Remembering is . . ._

_Something I’ve forgotten.”_

Cristin H.

  
  
  


Ranboo came to with a warm feeling in his chest and soft fuzz brushing his cheek. Distantly, he was able to recognize that he was covered in a hand-knitted blanket and placed near a fireplace. The room was small with little space for a person to be comfortable. The scent of spiced smoke and dusty rock filled the air with a familiar breeze. 

Pushing down vertigo he began feeling as he lifted his head, Ranboo looked around him with blurry vision. It took him a good minute, but he was able to focus on a figure in the corner of the room, not that far from him. A green and white striped hat sat comfortably on his head, casting a shadow over him as he stared down into a book. He seemed content with the moment—a feeling Ranboo envied.

“Phil.” His attention is stolen. Phil quickly whips his head to the side, seeing Techno walk up the stairs and head to the sink to wash his hands. Phil follows suit by standing up and walking near his friend. Neither set of eyes are on Ranboo.

“What’s up?” Phil finds his spot, leaning against a wall with a window and watching the stray chicks try to teach the stray calf how to slow their falls by flapping their nonexistent wings. Both mothers were nearby; eating leftover grains Techno had thrown out that morning.

“Phil, why was Ranboo out there?” Techno questions, turning off the faucet and facing his friends as he dries his hands with a towel.

“Seems to be a hot question at the moment. I wish I knew, man. It doesn’t make sense; why would he go out into the snowy terrain _without_ his armor on?” Phil adds to the mystery.

“I mean, he _does_ have that whole memory problem.” Techno tried to rationalize.

“He has difficulty _remembering_ things—he doesn’t have dementia, Techno,” Phil responds, unimpressed by the idea.

“Well, how-how do we know if he’ll even _remember_ this when he wakes up?” Techno argues, stumbling on his words while trying to clear his thoughts.

“Because we’ll _tell_ him.” Phil furrows back.

“But, what if it happens again, Phil?” Techno pulls back his hand-crafted wooden chair and takes a seat softly.

“Then we’ll _deal_ with it again. What are you trying to get at here, Techno?” Phil’s brows still furrowed with confusion and concern.

“I’m not sure. We don’t know what he’s doing out there, Phil. Sometimes _he_ doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s even told us before—there are times where he blacks out. Who knows what he has going on?” Techno explains.

“Techno...what are you saying?”

“I think it best that Ranboo find a warmer environment to stay in.” He says it as kindly as he can but all Phil can feel is cold spikes entering his skin. 

“No. uh uh. No way.” Phil shakes his head.

“Phil, _please-_ ”

“ _No_ , I said no.”

“Just hear me out-”

“I said _no_ !” Silence wavers over the room as Techno stops speaking. Phil sighs, overwhelmed by his own outburst. “Listen, Techno; Ranboo is _Ranboo_. He’s not Tommy. He’s nothing like Tommy. He is his own person and deserves to be treated as such.”

“I never said-” Techno begins but is quickly cut off.

“You don’t have to. I’ve known you too long and too well to see you repeating the same patterns. One person gains your trust and the moment they even _bat an eye_ in another direction—you’ve lost all hope in finding another. Just because p _one_ erson hurts you doesn’t mean there’s no good left in the others.” Phil explains and Techno is speechless—unsure of what to say. Phil was right, but he didn’t want to admit that. “Ranboo’s a good kid. He’s not going to betray us—he won’t betray _you_ . He doesn’t like that whole picking-sides shit. If _anyone_ deserves a friend; it’s _him_.” 

There’s a long moment of silence that hangs near their heads as Techno processes Phil’s words. It’ll take him a while to adjust to the realization, but at least this time he’s willing to _try_ and change. “Alright, Phil. Alright.” He nods and Phil nods back assuringly.

“We should go check on him, yeah?” Phil suggests and Techno nods.

Phil smiles as Techno pushes in his chair and follows behind Phil. The two peacefully make their way to the small living space they placed Ranboo in and look over to the lump of blankets in the corner. Techno decides to stay back near the entryway as Phil walks closer and pulls back the blanket lightly.

“Ran-” His words are quickly cut off when he finds out the blankets are empty of life and lay lonesome on the floor. They’re still freshly warm but woven with strands of cold. Directly above them is a strong breeze from the opened window that wasn’t there before.

“ _Shit_ ,” Phil mutters.

  
  
  


_“Trying to remember how sad I am_

_Would be an easy adversity_

_But the recollecting of Bloom_

_Keeps making November difficult_

_Till I who was almost bold_

_Lose my way like a little Child_

_And perish of the cold.”_

Emily Dickinson

  
  
  


“I need to leave. I need to leave. It’s best for Phil and Techno that I go somewhere else. Techno _himself_ wants me gone. I’ve overstayed my welcome. I need to leave.” Ranboo can’t tell if he’s trying to convince himself or if he’s simply sorting out his thoughts. He’s back at his old base and is gathering as many resources as he possibly can—preparing himself to start a new life somewhere else.

In the search for iron, he comes across the animal enclosure and is surprised to see Ranbun sleeping peacefully in his cage. He was _safe_ . Dream _didn’t_ kill him. Perhaps Ranboo had made it all up in his head? Perhaps none of it was real? But, what if this wasn’t real? How would he be able to tell?

His head spun quickly as he sat down to calm his nerves. He’s given _barely_ a moment of peace before it all comes crashing down once again.

“You didn’t think I _actually_ did it, did you?” That _same_ persistent voice pops in his head as he looks up to see Dream leaning against his open doorway.

“You’re not real.” Ranboo grunts back through gritted teeth.

“Perhaps.” Dream shrugs his shoulders, “Perhaps not. It’s not like _you_ could tell.”

“Leave me _alone_ ,” Ranboo demands angrily, tightly gripping his hands into fists and hoping that the nightmare before him will disappear. 

“No can do, friend. I’ve got a responsibility to take care of.” 

“What responsibility?” Ranboo finds Dream still there. He ponders with furrowed brows.

“ _You_ .” Dream smiles, “You know too much, Ranboo. You’ve seen _too_ many secrets unfold and heard _too_ many truths. There’s more power to you than you know yourself—and I just can’t have that. I can’t have a threat like you in _my_ land.”

“You’re lying.” Ranboo bites back.

“Think what you will—I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why can’t you just leave me _alone_!” The words echo through the small home while clenched fists and woven tears form at Ranboo’s skin. He takes in a deep breath and finds Dream nowhere to be found. Instead, Phil stood sadly at the door with Techno close behind.

“Oh, Ranboo,” Phil whispers—having seen this scene far too many times throughout the years. He pitied the younger one, as he had no idea the ride he was in for. Ranboo saw the fear in Phil’s eyes and quickly stood and made his way to Phil. 

“I-” Ranboo started but choked on his words and decided to stop. He was angry beyond what any language could express and exhausted out of his mind. 

“It’s alright, mate. It’s alright.” Phil pulls Ranboo into a hug and at first, he stiffens. But, once he feels the warm cloth of Phil’s shaw against his skin and gentle pats placed on his back—he starts to feel at home. He leans into the touch and hugs back. He looks up briefly to see Techno standing near. Ranboo is about to say something to the older but is caught off-guard by the neon green hint in the background.

“Big Brother is watching, friend.” Dream whispers before falling into the shadows smoothly. All Ranboo can do is hug Phil tighter and close his eyes—wishing for this to be a dream as well.

  
  
  


_“Nature’s first green is gold,_

_Her hardest hue to hold._

_Her early leaf’s a flower;_

_But only so an hour._

_Then leaf subsides to leaf._

_So Eden sank to grief,_

_So dawn goes down today._

_Nothing gold can stay.”_

Robert Frost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if I’m gonna write more to this. This was just an idea I had in my head and now it’s here.


	2. How can I live in the moment when my thoughts never feel like my own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Bea Miller’s song, “I can’t breathe”
> 
> Take a wild guess as to who my favorite poet is? It’s not like I’ve used three different poems from him...whoops...

_ “I shall be telling this with a sigh. _

_ Somewhere ages and ages hence: _

_ Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- _

_ I took the one less traveled by, _

_ and that has made all the difference.” _

Robert Frost  
  


* * *

They say,  _ ‘There’s a first time for everything.’  _ and perhaps they were right? Although, Ranboo seems to be having ‘firsts’ over and over again. He’s lost the ability to differentiate what is new and what he’s simply forgotten. Surely he hasn’t had Dream in his head before, but there’s a familiar air he brings with each visit that Ranboo  _ swears _ he’s felt before. If only he could remember… 

  
  
  


“Do you want syrup?” Ranboo looks up wide-eyed to see Phil standing above him with a plate of pancakes.

Ranboo has a blanket generously wrapped around his shoulders but nonetheless finds himself freezing. Not the winter smoke that came from chapped lips and ice roads type of cold, but the ominous night sky that hung over the dark ocean waters with an open depth beneath his feet type of cold. It was the kind of cold that no amount of warmth could fix

“I’m not hungry, sorry,” Ranboo mumbles back and watches Phil frown in concern.

“You’ve gotta eat, Ranboo. You’re starting to look like a treat for Steve.” Phil almost scolds.

Ranboo knows he’s right⎼he just can’t find it in himself to care. Knowing and acknowledging were two different points laid out on the same plane and he couldn’t be on both.

“I don’t feel well.” He tries to explain. It wasn’t a lie.

“Ok.” Phil nods his head, placing the plate down on the counter to save for later. He decides to take a seat on the opposite side of the small table and open up the air for conversation, “How’ve you been feeling?”

_ Great. _ Just  _ fantastic _ . Aside from the inability to tell reality from fiction and the impulsive thoughts; other than that he was  _ fine _ . 

“I’ve been better.” Ranboo settles for a more  _ tame _ response.

Phil nods, “You know, Techno and I are always here if you need to talk?” Phil offers. “I know Techno may not be the  _ best _ at comfort, but he’s trying. He does what he can.”

Ranboo can’t help but feel guilt building up in his stomach. The two of them have done so much for him and they’re being left in the dark. (Then again, Ranboo felt like  _ he _ was left in the dark as well.) Nonetheless, they deserved  _ some _ sort of explanation.

“I know, I know.” Ranboo sighs, trying to build up the courage to tell Phil. He doesn’t even know where to start. The idea sounded so simple in his mind. “It’s just that- Like- I’m not- No, I’m  _ experiencing _ something- something recently, and it’s kinda been hard telling what is real and what is fake.”

“Like, people?” Phil questions, to which Ranboo nods. “I can assure you that Techno and I are as real as real can be.”

_ ‘Let me show you just how  _ real  _ I can be.’ _

Ranboo visibly flinched as Phil quiets, questioning what he’s done wrong. “It’s not you and Techno, it’s- I’m just-” Ranboo sighs. 

Words are failing him at the moment but he can’t blame them. He’s never been one for words just as much as they haven’t been one for him.

“I don’t know.” Ranboo deflates. He can’t find it in himself to go further. He’s embarrassed that such a thing is happening and frustrated that his feelings confuse him. He’s a mixing pot of emotions and it’s all boiling over.

“Pathetic.” From the corner of the room, leaning against the wall is an intimidating Dream. His usual attire is sprinkled with small dots of red that Ranboo would like to assume is from the berries outside.

_ ‘You’re not real. You’re not real.’ _ Ranboo thinks to himself, staring Dream down.

_ “‘You’re not real. You’re not real.’” _ Dream mimics with a chuckle, “I’m not the boogeyman, Ranboo. You can’t  _ think  _ me away. I’m not the monster under your bed or demon in your closet, I’m  _ you _ .”

As he listens to the list Ranboo can’t help but think, who was to say  _ he  _ wasn’t all those terrible things? He takes in a deep breath and attempts to calm himself.

“You good?” Phil questions. All Ranboo can do is look up and nod. In moments like these, it’s best he refrain from speaking rather than mess up when he tries.

“Well, is there anything Techno or I can do?” Phil is soft in his tone. Ranboo misses when people spoke that softly to him. Now they strike spikes of ice from their tongues into his ears, freezing him still.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, if you think of anything, don’t hesitate to let us know.” Phil smiles and Ranboo can’t help but smile back. Happiness was a disease and he was easily infected.

“Will do.”

When Phil leaves the room and heads downstairs, Ranboo lets out a sigh of relief. He feels confident with his words as to believe he didn’t mess up. He didn’t really  _ fix _ anything, but he made the very first steps in doing so. If only it wasn’t a 5k run.

“They’re gonna find out eventually.” Dream's damn voice is back. Ranboo forgot Dream didn’t leave. How appropriate.

“Find out  _ what?” _ Ranboo grits through his teeth.

“What you are… What you’ve done… Who you’ve hurt.” Dream lists slowly as he pushes off the wall and finds his place in the exact same chair Phil sat in.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ranboo ignores the conversation, staring down at his hands and anxiously rubbing them over each other.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re not  _ that _ clueless.” Dream grins.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“You know what you’ve done.”

“I just want to live my peaceful little life-”

“You like to tell yourself that you don’t, but you  _ do _ . You  _ do  _ know.”

“I wanna tend to my crops and pet my cats. Is that too much-”

“You know the truth, Ranboo.”

“I’m just sick of-”

“Cause the truth is-”   
  


“Just  _ stop! _ ”

“You’re gone.” The words quiet the Earth. “You’re too far gone and there’s nothing anyone can do to save you. You’re just as bad as all those people you didn’t want to remember but find them slipping into your mind anyway. They’ve torn down cities, but you're tearing down  _ communities _ .  _ People.  _ This may be  _ your  _ story, Ranboo, but that doesn’t make you the hero.”

Ranboo can’t speak. He’s stuck between telling himself that Dream is wrong and only lies to watch him squirm, or accepting what may as well be the truth because  _ anything _ is more reliable than his own mind. It’s easier to take Dreams words as lies and stuff them away as broken gears and screws to collect dust in his mind, but that would mean he was in need of being fixed. He tries to reason with himself that being broken wasn’t a bad thing, it just meant he was durable. Alas, you cannot convince yourself of something when you already know the truth.

“I hate you,” Ranboo whispers out his words, breaking from the inside out.

Dream clicks his tongue in disapproval, “No, you don’t. You  _ fear _ me, and people tend to hate what they fear. You’re afraid because you’re  _ like _ me. We’re not so different, Ranboo.”

“I am  _ nothing _ like you,” Ranboo growls back.

“You? Are  _ just  _ like me.” Dream’s voice screams a devilish grin. Ranboo decides that if he ignores Dream for long enough it will force him to leave his head. He answers the comment with silence and Dream is quick to pick up on this. “Think about it, friend.”

“We are  _ not  _ friends.” Ranboo, unable to help himself, grumbles at the man.

“A man who wants nothing to do with anyone but his friends. A man who is afraid to show his entire self. A man who has two sides to himself and doesn’t know which one he is half the time. A man who keeps himself shut off from the world. Doesn’t that sound  _ familiar  _ to you, Ranboo? Hmm? I can think of quite a few people that pertains to.” Dream lists, his tone getting scratchiest by the vowel. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m not the enemy. I’m just telling you that this path you’re going down? You’re not gonna like where you end up.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be convincing me to join you- to be  _ like  _ you?” Ranboo whispers meekly.

“Who said I wasn’t?” Dream shrugs. “I never said this path ends up like me. All I’m saying is that right now you’re acting like someone I know, and when it comes down to you ending up like him or me? It’s safer for everyone you end up like me.”

There’s a moment of silence as Dream waits for Ranboo to respond. “I don’t wanna be the bad guy.” Ranboo chokes out, overwhelmed by emotion.

“Even villains are the hero of their own story.”

“Hello? You there? Should I get Phil?” Techno’s voice cuts through. Ranboo looks up to see Dream has vanished and been replaced with Techno standing in the doorway. His sword was in his hand and heavy gear placed upon his shoulders with snow frosting the cloth tips.

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m good. Sorry. Must’ve zoned out.” Ranboo quickly assures. Techno's all but convinced.

“Alright… I just wanted to talk to Phil. Sorry if I interrupted anything.” Techno awkwardly nods.

_ ‘A man who wants nothing to do with anyone but his friends.’ _

Techno closes the door behind him and places his sword in his pack. A chill running from the room’s air makes him grip his robe and wrap it tighter around his being, almost unwilling to leave any part of himself open and vulnerable for the world to see.

_ ‘A man who is afraid to show his entire self.’ _

Ranboo watches as Techno makes his way downstairs. The discomfort in his voice quickly drops when he speaks to Phil. He sounds at home when he talks to Phil, as if he were talking to himself.

“Is he Ok?” Ramboo hears Techno ask. Phil mumbles something that can’t be heard through thick walls.

_ ‘A man _ __ _ who has two sides to himself and can’t tell which one he is half the time.’ _

__ “Alright. Keep an eye on him. I’m gonna go for a walk.”

More mumbles from Phil are used as a response.

“Nah, it’s fine. Someone has to stay here with him anyways. I just wanna be alone right now.”

Mumbles.

“Yes, I’m fine. You worry too much.”

__ _ ‘A man who keeps himself shut off from the world.’ _

Techno makes his way back up the stairs and directs to leave. Before exiting he looks back at the frail younger boy who sat in the wood chair, fidgeting with his hands.

“I’ll be back in a few hours.” Techno states.

“Where are you going?” Ranboo questions. He’s not sure what compels him to do so, but the words were already said.

“Just a little walk.” Techno shrugs. Ranboo warms at the idea of leading the house. He doesn’t like the way it makes him feel anymore.

“Can I come with?” He asks.

“It’s not exactly a  _ safe _ trip, kid. It’s better you stay here.” And with that, he leaves the house.

Ranboo hears a tongue clicking and looks to the corner of the room to see Dream with folded arms, shaking his head. He reaches down and grabs a book off a low shelf before opening it up and beginning to read.

“Is there something you wanted to say?” Ranboo says with a bite.

Dream looks up at him with wide eyes, almost as if he were asking,  _ ‘Me?’ _ Ranboo nods ever so slightly, urging him with eyes that respon,  _ ‘Yeah, you.’ _

Dream just shakes his head with a scoff before returning to his book. This doesn’t cease Ranboo’s staring, nor his eyes that beg for an answer. He gets one more sly glare from Dream before receiving more silence. Frustrated but hopeful, Ranboo still patiently waits for a reaction.

When he realizes that he’s not gonna get an answer, he stands up and ever so slowly begins to push his chair in, as to not make too much noise. He makes his way to the living room to sit in front of the fire and read. He’s halfway through the doorway when his thoughts are hindered.

“Great minds think alike, friend.” Dream clues before flipping a page. His eyes never left the book.

“I- I don’t understand.” Ranboo stutters.

“Oh,” Dream chuckles, “You will. You will.”

Ranboo furrows his brows for a moment before accepting this wasn’t something he could understand at the moment. He nods lightly and makes his way into the living room.

The warmth from the fire reminds him of simpler times. The heat reminds him of when he used to lay out in the grass and let the sun wash over him, showering him with a baked blanket that soothed his mind. The worn out pages on the books nearby reminded him of the same damn book he insisted his parents read before bedtime, having memorized the entire story meant nothing when he could sit and listen to the colors fly by. The sun coming through the window reminded him of early cartoon Sunday mornings where the birds and squirrels woke him up to watch Looney Toons and Tom and Jerry. He missed those simpler times.

He lays down beside the fireplace and pulls a wool blanket over him. It’s ever so scratchy and rough against the bare patches of his skin, but somehow that makes it more believable. It’s another grounding thought that he’s  _ real _ , and this is  _ real,  _ and so are the people around him.

Knowing this doesn’t stop him from drifting off with the desire to be far away from here, in a land where he was young and so was the day. A land where there was no conflict or strife. A land where no one knew who he was and he could start fresh. 

It’s interesting: reality truly did seem to be more terrifying than any nightmare or hallucination he could fear.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know if I’m gonna write more to this. This was just an idea I had in my head and now it’s here.


End file.
